Two Vodkas
by honeyandvodka
Summary: Tonight she could be anyone... A preseries Caskett meeting. Winter 2015 #CastleFicathon entry. Betaed by the extraordinary Kylie and Jamie. x
1. Chapter 1

The bar was dark, the low lighting on the walls reminiscent of the smoky bars Kate had frequented during her time in Kiev. This, though, was a little more upscale; infused vodkas in dozens of flavors, Beckett had run her gaze down the menu, rolling her eyes at the decorative Cyrillic script heading up each section before selecting a vodka with a shrug.

Vanilla infused. Nothing like the bitter herbal spirits she'd partaken of on her semester abroad, but was it so bad to indulge every so often?

She shook her head as the bartender slid the drink across the counter. No, it wasn't; she never let go, but if there was ever a night to do so, this was it.

Just a single night off, that was all she needed.

A night away from the nightmare that was her life, a reprieve from the jarring reality that she faced each and every day. She closed her eyes for a second before opening them and looking around the bar. Across the room, a tall man caught her attention, and she smiled at him, raising her glass as she met his gaze, swallowing the vodka down in one go and signaling the bartender for another.

Tonight she could be anyone.

…

Rick leaned back in his seat as he took in the room. Ostensibly, he'd come here to write, but in reality he'd come here to escape. Just for once, he wanted to be someone else. Writer, playboy. Father, son. All descriptors he gladly owned, even playboy to a degree, but, for now, he just wanted to be _himself_ , wanted to discard the baggage that came with being Richard Castle.

He ran his hand through his hair as he sipped the drink in front of him, reflecting on his melancholy. Tonight was supposed to have been different, a Saturday night set aside for time with his favorite girl, but his eight year old's mother had arrived, unannounced, driving him from his own apartment. "Stay," Meredith had implored, her eyes wide and innocent, but he'd begged off, unwilling to confuse their daughter with the mixed signals he and his ex-wife seemed to send every time she was in town.

Around him, the bar buzzed with a laid back energy brought on by the combination of alcohol and the weekend; no loud music here, and no bright lights, just a relaxed pulse that seemed to thread through the crowd.

Except for her.

He'd spotted her the moment she'd walked in; heels giving extra height to legs that went on for days, the short black dress barely decent. As she'd glanced in his direction he'd caught a glimpse of a black bra under the low cut top, and he'd swallowed.

She was anything but relaxed.

She was fire, and if he was lucky-

Ex-wife aside, Rick considered himself something of a slow learner; this one had trouble written all over her, he didn't need to be a writer, an observer of people, to see that.

She'd turned, raised her glass to him, before accepting another drink from the bartender.

He closed his eyes for a split second as she walked toward him, opening them as she approached, and sitting up a little straighter.

He was going to get burned tonight.

…

"Scotch, huh?" She seemed to be fighting laughter, and Rick shrugged.

"What's wrong with scotch?"

"It's a vodka bar," she pointed out, and he nodded conceding to her as he held out his hand.

"Rick Ca- Rick," he introduced himself. This was a bar, a one off… _meeting_ \- if that - and he didn't need to be revealing his life story. Though, if he could get her to spill her secrets, he was sure they'd fill a book-

"Kate," she replied, her lips quirked as she took his extended hand, and he returned the smile with a raised eyebrow.

"So you're here by yourself?" he guessed, gesturing for her to sit down. He caught the flare of momentary hesitation in her expression before she nodded, folding herself into the seat beside him, her legs crossed demurely.

He looked down as her skirt slid up a little, revealing creamy skin on what was surely a luscious thigh, before snapping his eyes back to her face.

Endless depths of green-brown met his eyes, and he gulped down the rest of his scotch before raising his hand to the waitress in request of another.

He didn't know what he'd done to get this lucky, but if the most beautiful woman in the bar - the most stunning woman he'd seen in a long time, maybe ever, in fact - was deigning to sit with him?

He wasn't going to complain.

...

"So what do you do?" he asked when the waitress had brought another drink his way.

"Really?" she asked. "You want to talk nine to five? Because I didn't come here for that."

"Fine," he smirked back at her. "What did you come here for?"

At that, Kate lowered her gaze, taking a sip from her own glass. "The vodka, of course," she said, but he heard the lie in her voice, the plaintive longing that was nearly obscured by the darkness.

"Then," he said, one hand raised to call the waitress back, the other - bravely and of its own volition - on her thigh, "let's have vodka."

...

"Another scotch?" their waitress asked, her Russian accent strong, and Kate smiled, answering before Rick could.

"Dva vodki, pozhaluysta," she requested, keeping her visible satisfaction to a bare minimum as Rick stared at her, open jawed.

"But. What- you-"

"I speak Russian, yes," she teased, noting the bob of his Adam's apple before he formed a cohesive response.

"That is so hot."

Kate ducked her head, her cheeks warming as she caught sight of the way Rick's hand looked on her thigh, and she shuddered with want as she lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes.

She could be anyone tonight, she reminded herself. It had been a long time since she'd last let go, last let off some steam, last forgotten what it was like to be anyone other than Beckett.

Tonight wasn't about focus, it wasn't about fighting.

It was about finding a spark when everything seemed burned out.

It was about untying herself from the memories that haunted her every day, and unless she was very much mistaken, Rick was going to be happy to help her forget.


	2. Chapter 2

Rick woke with a start, his heart pounding as he took in his surroundings. The room was dim, brightened only by the city's lights making their way through unfurnished windows. He fumbled on the nightstand for his watch.

Six am. The city was only just starting to wake up, the sun not yet peeking into each of Manhattan's neighborhoods. He had time to get home before his daughter awoke and missed him, but only just.

His gaze fell on the woman sleeping beside him, and for a moment he was tempted to stay; Alexis would be fine with Meredith all morning, and if Meredith needed him, well, his phone was on.

Wasn't it?

He frowned as competing thoughts rushed through his head; the location of his phone was almost definitely connected to the location of his jeans pocket, but when he thought about his pants he couldn't help but think about the way Kate had unfastened them, while his own hands had been busy unzipping her dress-

Last night had been amazing.

More than amazing.

Last night had been everything he hadn't known he'd needed; freedom, reprieve, fun. And sex. Mind blowingly good sex. For all that his playboy image had its basis in reality, he was not getting lucky as regularly as the tabloids implied.

Focus. Phone. Focus. He cast a regretful look at Kate before swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress and following the trail of clothing from the foot of the bed to the living room.

Jeans. Success. He reached into the pocket for his phone, blinking to bring the screen into focus. No new messages or missed calls; evidently Alexis was fine.

He pulled his pants on, then his shirt, padding back into the bedroom to retrieve his watch and fastening it to his wrist. In the first strains of daylight Kate looked younger than she had in the bar, younger than she had when he'd taken her to bed, and he blinked, wondering just how old she was. Last night he'd taken her for late twenties, but perhaps she was younger. Slack with sleep, she was relaxed in a way that he hadn't seen when they'd-

He swallowed, remembering.

"Your place or mine," she'd hummed into his ear as they'd finished their drinks, and he'd played it down, trying to give the illusion that his place was further away than hers - which, as it turned out, was true, but only just - so that he didn't have to explain the ex-wife situation to a stranger. Not to mention the fact he was yet to bring anyone home when Alexis was there.

"Oh, I live-" he'd gestured vaguely, hoping she would take his hand movements to mean he lived outside of Manhattan.

"I'm just two blocks away," she'd confessed, hair falling in her face as she dipped her head.

He'd nodded, taking her offered hand, and letting her lead him out of the bar.

And then-

He closed his eyes.

So, so good. God, it had been great; he wasn't clear how they'd made it to the bed, but the recollection of lying satiated in one another's arms for several minutes before Kate had stood, tugging at his hand and leading him into the bathroom for a shower and round two was clearer.

And now he wanted round three. He sighed, weighing up his options. He could wake her, but... He shook his head. He couldn't. It was barely dawn on Sunday morning, and much as it pained him to leave without saying goodbye, he needed to get back to his daughter.

Inching toward the bedroom door again, he kept his eyes on Kate; if she would just wake of her own accord...

She remained motionless, and he ran his hand through his hair as he stood in the exit, before turning away from her.

It had been one night; he'd needed it, and so - he thought - had she. He'd leave his details, that would have to be enough. A pen and paper lay on the counter in the kitchen and he scrawled his cell phone number onto it before taking a last look around.

He'd missed the details last night, but now he saw her place more clearly he wondered if his first guess about her age was more accurate. Most people in their early twenties had roommates in tiny apartments; Kate had an expansive one bedroom in the East Village, eclectic yet expensive taste on display. She had to be in her late twenties. He pictured her a lawyer, the hard steel determination he'd glimpsed last night would serve her well in a courtroom.

Then again. He shrugged, letting himself out of the apartment and guiding the door closed behind him. Perhaps she was young. Perhaps she wasn't a lawyer, but a trust fund baby.

He would never know; the one certainty he had was that she wouldn't call.

The bitterness that filled his mouth at that sudden truth was an unwelcome surprise.

...

Kate stirred at the sound of the door closing, and she forced her eyes open, turning to look at the empty space beside her.

So he was gone.

That was probably for the best; last night had been great - she closed her eyes as she remembered just how great - but it was over. She would never see him again. He was just a guy, she was just a girl, and even if she, personally, didn't do one night stands as a rule, people hooked up all the time, no strings attached.

For once, last night, she'd been no different. She'd had exactly the night she'd set out to have; freedom and fun. Now it was over. Today she was Beckett again.

She groaned. If she was Beckett again, that meant it was time to get up, work out, and get back to her studies.

She buried her face down into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world.

Maybe she could pretend to be Kate for another hour or so.

...

Rick slid his key into his lock as quietly as possible, swinging the door open and walking into the loft; he toed his shoes off before he could make any noise, and took a step toward his room, only to be barreled into from behind.

"Daddy," squealed his eight year old. "Where have you been?"

"I, uh- what are you doing up already?" he countered, unable to think of an excuse on the fly.

"It's almost seven and you said you would make pancakes for breakfast," Alexis reminded him, and he nodded.

"I was just going out to get some maple syrup," he lied. "But I forgot my wallet."

"We have maple syrup, Dad," she said, tugging on his hand and leading him into the kitchen. She pulled open the pantry door with a huff and pointed. "On the top shelf. See?"

"I see." He blinked. "Well, in that case, I'm going to take a quick shower, then we'll make pancakes, okay? Where's Mom?"

Alexis gave him a strange look. "In your room?"

"Right. Ah- right." He grimaced. He hadn't even been here, yet Meredith was still managing to send their daughter the wrong message. "I'll just go see if she's awake."

He turned, clenching his fists as he steeled himself, unwilling to let Alexis see the anger he knew was flaring in his eyes.

He trudged into his bedroom, sighing as he caught sight of his ex-wife sprawled out in his bed. This would have been welcome, so many times in the past - her long red hair tangled, the swell of her breasts visible beneath the sheets - but today it left a bad taste in his mouth, and he closed his eyes, letting other images wash away reality.

Kate, in her bed, dark locks fanning her face as he rose above her. Her green eyes darkening as he took her again in the shower, her taste intoxicating. The lithe figure she'd made as she gave in to sleep, her slender form strong and defiant.

He would wake Meredith, fake his way through a cheery pancake breakfast, and then send her on her way.

He'd come home for Alexis; that was what he needed to keep reminding himself.

But as he stepped forward, placing his hand on Meredith's shoulder to rouse her, he was left longing.

What ifs flew through his mind; perhaps they'd have made love - at that he corrected himself, one night stands were sex, not love making, no matter how in sync they'd been - or maybe they'd have shared an awkward breakfast.

Maybe she'd have thrown him out, demanded he leave, or perhaps they could have curled up on her sofa, exchanging soft glances and longing looks until she'd shared with him, not just her body, but herself.

He found himself all too curious; she wouldn't call, but if she did-

"Hey, kitten." Meredith's voice jarred him from his longing, and he blinked, focusing on his wife's face and refusing to let his eyes wander further south, even as she stretched, letting the sheet fall from her. "Walk of shame?"

His cheeks warmed as fury flooded his veins, and he glared at her.

If only he'd stayed at Kate's.


	3. Chapter 3

Kate hurried along the Manhattan sidewalk, her gaze trained straight ahead as she proceeded to the subway. Don't look, don't look - but her eyes betrayed her and she glanced right to see the vodka bar as she passed it.

Again.

Every day for almost two weeks.

Her stomach clenched as she relived the night for a split second; the taste of the vodka strong in her mouth, the heady intoxication she'd felt as she'd led Rick from the bar, his scent on her sheets the next morning...

She should have called him.

Too late; the paper with his number had long since been crumpled and discarded, the notepad he'd written in put away in her desk, the pen he'd touched at the bottom of a purse somewhere. Her black dress had been dry cleaned and hung primly in her closet.

She was Beckett again.

She'd discarded all but memory of the night, was focused, was ready to move forward.

In front of her the subway entrance beckoned, its grimy green handrail leading underground. She had to hurry, even on Friday morning the academy waited for no recruit officer, and if she couldn't concentrate, couldn't get her head out of the night that had happened two weeks ago and into the intensive training regime she'd signed on for - she swallowed, taking the last of the stairs two at a time and rushing through the subway gates to jump aboard the F train uptown - if she couldn't get her head into the game, she wouldn't solve her mother's murder.

Beckett sank into an empty seat, gripping her shoulder bag so tightly she knew it would be leaving marks on the palm of her hand.

She would forget about it. About him. Starting tonight when she returned home, she would choose an alternate route; there was no need to walk past the vodka bar, there was no need to think about Rick again.

It was over.

...

Rick knelt down and hugged Alexis, leaning back to look into her big eyes. "Now, if Gram tries to get you to throw a big party while I'm gone, what do you say?"

Alexis giggled, squirming from his grasp. "No," she repeated. "I tell her no."

"And who do you call?"

"The doorman," Alexis recited, "so he won't let anyone in."

"And then?" he prompted.

"Then I call you!"

"Exactly right."

"What nonsense are you filling your daughter's head with now?" his mother asked as she descended the staircase.

"We're discussing the rules for tonight," Rick said.

"Oh yes." Martha waved her hand dismissively. "An hour of TV, then bed with a book, I know, I know."

"Rules for you, Mother," Rick said, and Alexis glanced at Martha before looking back at her father uncertainly.

"Yes, yes. I'll be fine, only a small party planned," she assured him, and Rick rolled his eyes, cupping his daughter's face in his hand.

"I think she's joking," he informed the eight year old, "but if she's not, you know how to reach me."

Alexis shrugged, apparently happy to go with the flow, and he stood, ruffling her hair.

"I'll see you in the morning."

He pecked his mother on the cheek, and walked to the door, opening it and standing at the exit. He surveyed the scene before him; his daughter taking her grandmother by the hand and tugging her toward his study where a veritable feast of Disney movies awaited. He was blessed, truly.

So why did he feel so... at odds with himself?

He closed the door and took the elevator to the ground floor, hailing a cab almost right away and sinking into the seat before giving the driver the address of the book launch party - some other up and coming Black Pawn author - he'd agreed to attend tonight. Paula had been on his back, Gina was on his case. The latter had offered to be his date for the evening, and he'd agreed reluctantly, unable to read his publisher's motivation; on a business level they worked fabulously, but if she was actually looking for more-

He shook his head, pushing that thought from his mind. With any luck, Gina was angling for a story as much as Paula was; they all knew that even in the publishing industry it wasn't the plots of his books that made headlines, but his personal life. Post divorce, the two women had worked hard to maintain his image as a playboy. As far as they were concerned his failed marriage was nothing but fodder for page six, and it had been easy for Rick to go with that. It had been easier, at the time, than focusing on the fact his baby girl's mother was more interested in her own career than her family, easier to let himself be father of the year behind closed doors and keep Alexis away from his other reality.

The press didn't give a damn that he had a daughter, didn't give a damn about Derrick Storm's nuances and carefully crafted personality. He shrugged as the taxi pulled up to the venue, passing the cabbie a handful of notes and waiting for the receipt so he could recoup the cost; this was a business transaction, nothing more. Attending with Gina - he was meeting her inside - and signing the chests of anyone who asked, it was all just business.

Nothing meant a thing.

He plastered a smile on his face as he climbed out of the cab, his expression faltering as he realized exactly where he was.

The event was at a rooftop bar in the East Village. Next door, an innocuous vodka bar was lit with a subtle warm glow that radiated from its glass front, and he could see that the small crowd inside was relaxed, a handful of people at the bar, several others at the tables and booths against the walls.

Rick drew a deep breath, closing his eyes and taking a moment to focus.

He'd known, of course, that she wouldn't call, but in his mind's eye he sidestepped the waiting red carpet that led to his fellow author's party, and traced the path he'd taken with her. It wouldn't be that hard now, to do the same.

If he just walked two blocks, then took a right, hers would be the second building. If he stepped over the threshold he would walk down a long hall before taking the elevator to the second floor, then hers would be the first door on the right. He could knock, and-

"Rick?" Gina's voice pulled him from his fantasy, and he painted the beam back onto his face, the stretch more a clench of his jaw than a genuine smile, and he hoped that in the dull light Gina wouldn't be able to pick it as strained.

"Gina," he responded. "I was just coming to meet you."

...

Kate stepped into the waiting bubbles, sinking down into the scalding water breathing in the rose scented air. Beside her, a glass of wine, and a paperback promised her a relaxing Friday night in, but she hesitated. Was a night in what she really wanted?

It was what she needed, she told herself, reaching for the wine and taking a sip. Memories flooded her mind, though, as the heady flavor touched her lips.

"When you're twenty-one," her mom had teased, before pouring her daughter a glass of wine. "You're too young to drink now."

But they'd toasted anyway, her mom's eyes sparkling as she raised her glass and clinked with her husband.

"To new beginnings," she'd said, and Jim had nodded in agreement, taking a sip before setting his wine on the counter and putting his arm around Kate.

"We're so proud of you," he'd said. "But Stanford's just so far away. If you change your mind-"

"Hush!" Johanna had swatted at Jim, her cheeks pink. "It's an amazing opportunity. Katie will be fine. And besides, every semester break she'll come home, and we can have weekends in California-"

Kate swallowed, the wine bitter on her tongue now. Her parents had trekked out to the West Coast twice during her first semester; she'd complained to her boyfriend that they were cramping her style.

But now-

Now she was alone in a bathtub in the East Village, her Friday nights empty.

She sighed, reaching for the book, but Patterson's latest mystery held little appeal. Nights like tonight all she was itching to do was figure out her mom's murder, but still she tried to force herself to unwind.

She opened the book, reading and rereading the first page three times before tossing it onto the floor in frustration and standing.

She let the water drip off her first, before stepping out of the bath and reaching for the closest towel, wrapping it around herself. She needed to get out of here.

...

Clad in jeans and a tee, Kate strolled down the sidewalk, her breathing coming more easily now that she was no longer within the confines of her apartment. The promise of Fall was on the horizon, the brisk air felt good on her bare arms, even as her flesh rose in goosebumps.

Before her, she could see the bar she'd been avoiding, and she shrugged, accepting it as inevitable. It wasn't like he would be there anyway. She'd just have one drink - god knew she was underdressed, but they wouldn't ask her to leave, of that she was sure - before returning to her apartment.

She'd read when she got back home, or maybe go through all the case files she already had access to, double check the reports from the coroner, triple check the police paperwork.

Comforting? Kind of. Macabre? Definitely.

But first, a drink; the Academy had pushed her harder than she had known she was capable of being driven these last two weeks.

And - her heart swelled with pride - she'd nailed every challenge, every time, proving to herself and most of the guys there that she was a force to be reckoned with.

Kate pushed the front door of the bar open, lost in thought as she stepped into the dimly lit room, only looking up as she walked straight into a solidly built man.

"Rick?" she said, and his face broke into a grin as he recognized her.

"Kate!" he said, his tone positively joyous. "You do come here often!"


	4. Chapter 4

Castle's mouth fell open as he looked down to see who had walked into him.

It was her.

Kate.

"So you do come here often!" he exclaimed, mentally slapping himself for opening with such a ridiculous line.

But Kate just looked up at him, her expression wry. "Not really," she informed him. "But it looks like you do."

"I-" He shook his head as he considered just what he should say. "I'm playing hooky from a party my pub- my boss wanted me to attend," he said, grimacing at the slip. Publisher. Not that Kate would care, but wasn't that the whole point? Or, it had been, last time. Anonymity.

"Okay." Kate looked, well, she looked bored. And different. Different to last time, that was. If her face hadn't been imprinted on his brain, her eyes scorched into his memory, since their last encounter, he doubted he would have recognized her.

In jeans and a white tee, she was still hot.

Maybe hotter.

This time there were no 'come fuck me' heels, no legs for days. But her lithe frame wore the casual look well; flats and denim made an intoxicating mix.

From behind her, two guys jostled past, and Rick was suddenly aware that they were still standing in the doorway of the bar.

"So, can I buy you a drink?" he asked, taking a step forward in an attempt to move Kate back into the bar, but she remained motionless, and it occurred to him that there were probably very few situations in which Kate would let herself get backed into a corner.

"I was just leaving," she pointed out, but she made no further move toward the exit, apparently content to remain still, Rick crowding her personal space.

"You could stay," he suggested.

She lifted a shoulder in the slightest of movements, tacit agreement in the gesture, and it was all Rick could do to stop himself from fist pumping in victory.

"I could stay." The faintest of smiles played on her lips, and she cocked her head, indicating the direction from which she'd just come. "Come on. Let's get a drink."

Rick nodded, barely daring to believe his luck as he trailed after her, his eyes glued to her as she moved through the crowd with ease and led them to the bar.

"Vodka?" he confirmed before nodding to the guy behind the counter and holding up his fingers. "Two vodkas, please."

The drinks were pushed toward him, and he turned to follow Kate once more; she seemed to have a sixth sense and in spite of the general busyness of the place, an empty booth materialized.

"So," he started, unsure, now, of how to continue.

"So," she teased.

He shrugged, leaning back into his seat and raising his glass to her. "Cheers,"

"Cheers," she echoed, taking a sip. His breath caught as she leaned back, her throat exposed, and he imagined his mouth on her pulse points once again. If tonight ended the way he wanted it to-

"Crap!" he exclaimed, and she dropped her head, angling toward him with confusion and amusement in her eyes. "Sorry. Nothing," he assured her, fighting to keep his expression even. But, crap. Because his mother most certainly wasn't charged with staying overnight with Alexis, and frankly, much as he wanted to pursue this - whatever _this_ was - with Kate, he couldn't, wouldn't, do so at the expense of his daughter.

She didn't call you last time, a little voice reminded him; no, a second one night stand with Kate was not worth it. Really…

He lifted his eyes, looking straight at Kate. Her left leg was slung over her right, her t-shirt slightly askew, exposing not only her collarbones - he swallowed at the sight - but the top of her chest.

Alexis was more important, but he was not leaving without Kate's number tonight.

...

This was unexpected. But not, something inside her niggled, unwelcome.

She'd been antsy, spoiling for a fight, spoiling for something new, her body wound tight and resisting her attempts to settle.

Beside her, Rick was off-balance, distracted. She thought he was trying to be subtle about it, but he'd glanced at his phone a half dozen times since they'd taken their seats, and his unease was at odds with the curious feeling of peace he was instilling in her.

A surprise meeting of the only one night stand she'd had since college should have been awkward.

Instead, Rick's presence was comforting. Calming.

Kate sighed, finishing her drink and signaling to the waiter for another. Maybe it was just the alcohol buzzing through her veins that was so relaxing.

She looked up, meeting Rick's blue eyes.

It wasn't just the alcohol.

He did something to her. And if she wasn't very much mistaken, they could move this back to her apartment, and he could do something-

His phone rang.

"Hi," he said, his voice curt, and Kate felt her stomach sink.

This was it. Something wasn't right, and she was about to find out what. _Wife_ , her mind supplied, unbidden, and she scowled; being the other woman was not her idea of a good time.

"No," he continued. "Not far away. Just got a text from a friend who lives nearby, so I ducked out for a moment."

He'd very deliberately not mentioned her gender, and that cemented it in her mind. She stood, ready to walk out, but Rick caught her wrist, tugging her back into her seat. For a second she considered decking him - her academy training had been very thorough in how to use her slender form against a heavier assailant - but instead she sat back down as he mouthed 'sorry' to her, rolling his eyes as he listened to whomever was on the other end of the call.

"Fine," he agreed, at last. "I'll come back. Give me a minute, though." He ended the call, a wry smile on his face. "I got caught," he said to Kate. "I shouldn't have picked up, but I can't turn my cell off, and she would have just kept calling."

"Your wife?" Kate asked, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew she was wrong.

His eyes flared in a spark of anger before he shook his head. "Kate, you don't know me very well, but I'll tell you this now. I don't cheat. Ever."

"Sorry," she said, contrite and regretful. "So you're going back to... wherever it is you're supposed to be."

"I am," he said, unhappiness lacing his tone. "But you heard me, I told her I'd be a minute. So." He stood, extending a hand, and she took it, letting him pull her up. "Will you accompany me back to the world's most boring party?" He batted his eyelids at her, a lame attempt at cute, and she ducked her head, laughing.

"Wow, Rick, you're really selling it there."

"Come on!" He wiggled his eyebrows. "I can't promise vodka, but there'll be champagne. Lots, and lots of champagne."

"What kind of party is this anyway?" she asked, looking down and considering her jeans and tee. Not that she cared. But this didn't seem like the right outfit. Then again, the way Rick was looking at her, she wasn't sure he cared.

"It's," he hesitated. "It's a book launch. A, uh, a novel."

"Why is it so important you're there?" she asked. "A friend of yours wrote a book?"

"Yeah, a... friend." His brow was furrowed, though, and Kate was struck by the urge to kiss the frown from his face.

"Maybe, if you're going to be a minute, we can stop by my place first?"

...

He followed her up the stairs, the alluring sway of her hips hypnotizing, and then stepped into Kate's apartment for the second time. The scent of rose lingered in the air, but before he had a moment to look around and source the flowers, Kate had him backed against the door, her mouth hot on his.

"Fuck," he breathed, and she exhaled on a throaty chuckle.

"No," she said, "I told you we'd just be a minute."

"I can be-"

She laughed again before silencing him with her lips, her tongue seeking entrance and meeting his own. "Don't tell me you can be that quick," she cautioned, her hands roaming, and he swallowed, his own fingers making their way under her t-shirt and coming into contact with her soft skin. "I don't want just a minute, not of this."

She broke away before he could protest, and he smiled as she walked through the apartment, disappearing into her bedroom. "We don't have to be quick," he called after her. "We don't have to go anywhere."

"We do." Kate's voice echoed in the small space, "you promised your friend you'd go back to the party." He closed the gap between them; she'd pulled the bedroom door half closed, but from this angle he could see her reflection in the full length mirror as she shimmied out of her jeans and shrugged off her t-shirt. Fuck.

He was gone. He was so gone. She'd been, what, a one night stand? And, okay, he hadn't been able to get her out of his head since they'd met, but now-

Now he was done for.

"I can see you there," she informed him, and he stepped over the threshold. Her bed was made, the duvet pulled primly to the head of the mattress, pillows sedately atop it, and meanwhile Kate stood almost naked in front of him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"So, uh...?"

"This one?" She opened her closet and held a short black dress in front of herself. "Or this one?" A second, slightly longer, dress materialized, and he shook his head, waving it away and she held the first one up again.

"No, not there." He gestured again, and she shifted so he could see her bare skin again. "Just a little to the left- that's right, put them both down-"

She rolled her eyes, placing both dresses - still on their hangers - onto the chair beside her bed. "Why's that, Rick?"

At the sound of the hard K in his name he closed the gap between them, his hands around her slender waist and his mouth hot against hers. She writhed against him, and he became acutely aware of the clothes still between them - his pants, his shirt, her thong, her bra - and divesting themselves of these items was suddenly the only priority, returning to the party no longer an option.

His phone - a traitor in his back pocket - chirped, and Kate reached for it, handed it to him. The text from Gina lit the screen, 'where are you?' and he shuddered. She was going to kill him.

Kate stepped back, adjusting her bra before selecting one of the two dresses and slipping into it with a rueful smile, taking his hand and leading him back to her front door. She stepped into a pair of heels at the entry way, and took her clutch from the table.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Rick asked as she locked the door behind them

"Being your impromptu date?" She laughed. "Beats taking a bath alone on a Saturday night."

"You're killing me here, Kate," he said. "A bath? With you? Because really, we don't have to go to this thing-" Gina would be out for blood, but he'd have Kate, so it might just be worth it.

"Are you this eager to break your word all the time?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"No. I just really don't want to have to show up to this thing," he admitted.

"I can tell," she informed him. "But too late. Now, you coming?"


	5. Chapter 5

Kate wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but either she hadn't been paying attention, or Rick had omitted a few key details.

This wasn't just a party.

This was an event of some magnitude, and she blinked as she took it all in, grateful that she'd had the sense to change into a dress and heels. Fairy lights twinkled and champagne was flowing.

As it was, she was underdressed compared to most of the other women in the room. Of course - she smirked to herself a little - Rick certainly wasn't looking at any of the other women.

They all knew him, and she tilted her head to the side as she observed him. The man whom she'd met at the bar, the man whom she'd made out with in her bedroom, the man whom she had teased - he'd been awkward and adorable as he'd tried to convince her to have a drink with him - that man was gone.

In his place was someone confident; he stood a little taller here, and she appreciated, not for the first time, her preference for sky high heels.

"Ricky!" An older man clapped him on the back as he swaggered by.

"Rick!" From across the room, a young man raised his glass at him.

And, "Richard!" At the sound of a woman's voice Rick cowered and Kate turned to see a petite blonde woman storming toward them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She took time out from her glare to acknowledge Kate with a curt nod. "Hi." Cursory greetings done with, she narrowed her eyes at Rick, and Kate watched as he shrank under the piercing gaze. "Seriously? You can't play nice for five minutes? You have to leave, meet-" she air quoted as she indicated Kate, "-a 'friend'."

"I-"

"Because really, if you have a new girlfriend, just tell Paula, she'll put out a statement, and then-"

"Gina!" Rick held his hands up. "Stop. I'm serious. I came here as a favor, and if I leave to meet a friend - Paula's not publishing a thing - that's none of your business. Not yours, not anyone else's."

"But-"

Rick cut her off with a shake of his head. "Gina, we can talk business on Monday. For now, let's just pretend this is a party we all actually want to be at."

He turned from her, shaking his head, and pressed his eyes closed for a second before offering his hand to Kate.

"Can I get you a drink?"

...

"What was that all about?" Kate asked as he handed her a glass of champagne. "What is so important about this party, anyway? Something political?"

"No." He dropped his head, taking a sip of his drink and leading her around the corner to where the lectern and microphone were still set up. Behind them posters decorated the walls. "A book launch. Gina's a publisher, and she's my boss."

He cringed as he let the white lie slip from his mouth, but Kate didn't seem to have caught the half-truth. "I love mystery books," she exclaimed. "I just started reading them a few months ago. I was going through my mom's stuff and she had a bunch of Pattersons, and-" She caught herself, and he let his lips turn up, the first genuine smile he'd attempted since arriving back at the party.

Fighting to keep his tone casual, he asked, "Got any other favorite authors?"

Would it be better if she'd never read his novels? Or a blow to his ego? Or maybe she did know who he was, and was just keeping quiet about it. But if that was the case-

"Not in the mystery genre," she admitted. She gestured to the cover art. "I don't even know this guy, and apparently it's his party."

"He's new to the scene," Rick said. "This is his first book. It's not bad, actually."

Kate nodded, and he took her arm again, leading her back toward the party.

"Look, I'm really sorry," he said, "I should apologize. Dragging you here, and then Gina-"

"No," Kate said, and she ducked her head, her cheeks pinking. "I'm the one who should apologize. I mean, you left your number and I didn't call. And maybe I should have."

Rick grinned. "You definitely should have. But it's-" he hesitated. "It's okay," he lied. "Besides, I figured you were just busy with a case."

"A case?" Something in Kate's eyes shifted, and her expression became guarded. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, well- you know. A case."

She shook her head, taking a minute step back and he closed the gap automatically, his brow furrowing.

"A law case. Because you're a lawyer. I mean- you are a lawyer, right?"

He brought his hand up to his face now, his fingers digging into his temple.

"You're not a lawyer, are you?"

She shook her head. "Must have been that other girl you picked up at the vodka bar," she said, her lips tight, and he reached out, his hand on her waist before he could stop himself.

"Trust me," he murmured into her ear, breathing more easily as he felt her relax against him. "There was no other girl at the vodka bar. It's just something I do. Make up stories about people, and honestly, I thought you might be a lawyer, and I guess my brain just translated that into fact.

She looked up at him through heavy lashes, and he smiled back at her. So she wasn't a lawyer. Good to know. Well. He considered. Sort of… But that meant he still didn't know anything about her. But the flip side was she didn't know anything about him either, not really. He'd eluded to being in the publishing industry, had avoided mention of actually being an author, and in spite of having read a couple of Pattersons, she was none the wiser.

He shouldn't ask her, he wouldn't. He wouldn't. He could enjoy the mystery, let it be.

"So what do you do?" His mouth had missed the memo, but Kate just laughed.

"Do you really want to know?" she asked, taking the last sip of the glass of champagne in her hand. "Wouldn't you rather just make something up?"

Her tone was teasing, and he nodded as he reached for another drink for her, exchanging an empty glass for a full one as a waiter carried a tray past. "CIA operative. Spy. Assassin. Oh! But not if you've been sent to assassinate me. Astronaut?"

"Astronaut? Really?"

He laughed. "Come on, isn't this my cue to make up some cheesy pick up line about falling from the stars or something?"

She leaned into him, dipping her head. "Don't you dare. Corny lines like that aren't your style."

"Oh, but they are," he insisted, brushing a kiss against her forehead and taking her hand. "But come on. You want to get out of here?"

"Are you 'allowed'?" she teased, and he shrugged.

"It's all winding down now," he said; something of a lie, it would kick on for hours yet, but he didn't need to be here anymore, not really. Gina had made her point.

...

The sheets were twisted around Rick's body, and his breathing had deepened then evened out. In spite of his earlier insistence that he couldn't stay the night, Kate was loathe to wake him. She'd had - her mouth twitched as she admitted it to herself - she'd had _fun_.

When was the last time that had happened?

High school? College? Stanford, of course; nothing good had happened since she'd returned to New York.

Until now.

She sat up and sighed, drawing out the breath and closing her eyes as she brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Next to her, Rick stirred, shifting onto his side in his sleep, and she opened her eyes, tilting her head to watch him.

Maybe this could be something.

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought.

No. She needed to stay on course, focus.

This couldn't become anything real, they couldn't get serious. It would never be a relationship.

You could have some fun on the side, her mind insisted, and she smiled.

Maybe she could.

...

"Kate," he whispered, his hand on her shoulder as he shook her awake. "Kate. Crap. Wake up, I have to go."

"I don't," she mumbled, as her eyes fluttered open. "What are you waking _me_ for?"

"I need your number," he said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I have to go, but since you… _lost_ … my number last time, I need to put it in your phone. And get yours."

"Uh-huh." She raised her eyebrows before running a hand over her face. The covers slipped as she did so, and he was treated to a glimpse of her collarbone. If she moved just a little more the sheet would shift, and- "stop staring," she commanded, sounding more awake now. She sat up fully, reaching over to the nightstand for her cell, and he was rewarded with a full view of her breasts, perfectly rounded. "Okay, what's your number?"

"Huh?" He blinked, bringing his eyes back up to her face.

"My number. Do you want it, or not? Because this is a one time offer-"

"I want it," he squeaked, scooting across the bed and taking her cell to input his number, dialing it so Kate's details would come up as a missed call on his own phone. "And now you have mine." He reached across her to put it back on the nightstand before taking her hand, letting his fingers intertwine with hers. "So…"

"So…" she echoed, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

"So I'll see you soon, right?"

She shrugged, averting her eyes.

"Right? Kate?"

She nodded, but still she wasn't meeting his eyes and he sighed, releasing her hand and leaning over the edge of the bed to find his boxers and pants. "I'll call you," she murmured at last, as he stood and pulled his shirt on. "I promise. But- Rick?"

"Yeah?" He turned around to see she'd pulled the sheets back over herself and was sitting up with her legs drawn tight to her chest.

"What is this to you?"

"What is- I don't know, Kate. It's-" he picked his watch up from the nightstand, strapping it onto his wrist. "It's six thirty and I'm trying to get home, and I like you, but-"

He hesitated. He liked her. _Really_ liked her. But right now she looked like a deer in headlights and he had to go - he shouldn't have even stayed, not when his mother had Alexis - and he couldn't get into this. Not now. Not really. Not the way he wanted to.

"Put it this way," he said. "I should be making you pancakes right now, and I'm kicking myself that I'm not-"

"I'm not your girlfriend," she interrupted him. "I just want to be clear about that." Her voice was small, and he swallowed. Because he was - in so many ways - thoroughly and utterly _done for_ but this _running_ he was doing, this early morning walk of shame, was the exact opposite of what he wanted to be doing. It was the opposite of who he wanted to be, as far as Kate was concerned. She'd saved him last night. From Gina? From a boring party?

He didn't know.

But _this,_ whatever it was - a hurried one night stand? - wasn't enough.

That, he knew.

"Check," he managed with a smile. "Not my girlfriend, then. But Kate, I promise, I'm going to call you, and I'm taking you out on a date." She nodded, her cheeks flushing, and he grinned at her, sitting down on the bed next to her and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

"I'll see you," he promised, standing and walking toward the bedroom door. As he opened it he heard her speak, and he turned back.

"Hey, Rick? Last night, you said - and I trust you, I do - but you said you're not married. So you want to tell me why you absolutely have to rush out of here at six thirty on a Sunday morning?"


	6. Chapter 6

Texts. Phone calls. Hook ups.

On paper, it was great.

The reality was somewhat different.

Rick stood up on his tiptoes, his eyes scouring the store as he considered.

Kate was great. Beyond great - she was incredible. Their physical connection alone would have been enough to set his head spinning, but it went further than that. They seemed to have some kind of mind meld deal going on, and she had an uncanny ability to finish his sentences.

She was also holding something back from him.

His brow furrowed as he continued to scan his surroundings.

Could he blame her?

Whatever it was - and he didn't know, knew almost nothing about her - couldn't be as big as the things he was holding back from her.

" _Hey, Rick? You said - and I trust you, I do - but you said you're not married. So you want to tell me why you absolutely have to rush out of here at six thirty on a Sunday morning?"_

He hadn't wanted to tell her, no.

Was there a faster way to kill a fledgling relationship?

Not that he wanted a relationship with someone who had a problem with his daughter. No. Absolutely not. But it wasn't as black and white as all that either; he'd dated on both ends of the spectrum.

The women who used Alexis to get to him, and the women who treated Alexis as some kind of inconvenience.

He wasn't willing to go down either of these paths with Kate, and so he'd taken the coward's way out, mumbled a blatant lie about work, and fled.

Two weeks later, and he was no closer to revealing the truth about himself.

The anonymity was liberating, and it was suffocating.

He frowned, worry creeping in as he peered around yet another shelf. Where was she? Alexis was a sensible kid, but this was a bookstore, and like him, she had a way of getting lost in them. He'd left her in the junior section reading a Roald Dahl - she'd read _Matilda_ a half dozen times, was drawn to it like an old friend - but now she was nowhere to be found.

…

Beckett flexed, stretching her arms in front of her as she rolled her shoulders. She leaned her head back while she waited for the green light, letting the tension drain out of her neck, and closing her eyes as she did so.

What a morning.

Some aspects of Academy life were incredible; it was always brutal in its own way, but some moments held more charm than others.

Sparring in the gym - she could take a _lot_ of her classmates, had bested an instructor or two in the last month - was a definite highlight.

The legal studies classes, as well, were intense, but she'd been pre-law and the intellectual stimulation made a welcome change to some of the more prosaic moments.

Speaking of the mundane. She sighed, pulling a tissue from her pocket and blowing her nose, trying to clear the pollution from her body. She needed to wash, badly. She allowed her mind to drift. She would strip off her clothes, toss them straight into the laundry, and shower quickly, cleansing her body before running a bath. She'd sink into the tub, and stay there until it was time to go out.

At that, she felt her lips curl up into an involuntary smile.

She'd been smiling a lot lately.

Rick was keeping secrets, but she liked him anyway.

Maybe because of the secrets - god knew she didn't want to share hers, not yet, not ever - or maybe just because he was smoking hot.

She grinned now, letting herself relax further as she walked down the sidewalk, picking up her pace to put as much distance between herself and the intersection as possible.

Was there anything less appealing than working traffic enforcement? The traffic control division was separate but that didn't mean recruit officers didn't have to pay their dues by pulling a couple of shifts in that department.

Beckett hated every second of it, and more to the point, was pretty sure the only reason the recruit officers were forced into traffic was as a threat, or warning. A way for the Academy to say, 'screw up, and you'll end up here'.

Speaking of ending up places. Kate paused in the middle of the pavement, earning herself the ire of the women walking behind her. She was right by a bookstore. If she ducked in, she could grab the next Patterson book in the series. She hesitated for a second - she was dusty and dirty. Maybe she should go straight home? But if she went home she would run herself a bath, climb in, and regret the lack of reading material.

She shrugged, turning to the door and tugging it open.

Glancing around to orient herself, the sign for 'crime and thriller' stood out, and she headed in its direction, long strides making short work of the major store. She rounded the corner and stepped smack into something. She looked down. _Someone_ , in fact. Someone small with red hair, and blue eyes made brighter by the tears staining her face.

"Are you okay?" she made herself ask, and the girl looked up at her, perking up at once.

"A policewoman," she exclaimed. "I can talk to you."

"Of- of course you can," Kate agreed, taken aback. She wasn't entirely sure what else to say, but she was taking an oath to serve and protect the city, and she supposed that included teary eyed children. "What- how- what's your name?" she asked.

"Alexis," came the tearful reply. "And I can't find my dad. We were here together, and I was reading, and I think he wandered off."

"What's your dad's name?" Kate asked. "We can go to the counter, see if they can call him."

"Richard," Alexis said. "Richard Castle."

"And what does he look like?" Kate asked, and Alexis pursed her lips.

"He's tall. And he has brown hair."

Tall with brown hair. Great. This was, she guessed, practice for dealing with less than detailed witness statements. "Anything else?" she asked, not really expecting an answer, but Alexis' face erupted into a broad grin as she reached toward the bookshelf and triumphantly pulled out a paperback, handing it to Kate.

"Like that," she said, satisfaction in her voice. "That's my dad." Kate took the book and turned it over, only to be met with familiar piercing blue eyes. Her mind spun as she tried to process what she was seeing.

Rick - she could have sworn he'd told her his last name was Rodgers - was staring back at her.

Richard Castle.

Holy crap.

She looked at the shelf that Alexis had plucked the book from. An entire row was dedicated to Richard Castle. Dozens of titles were on display. A handwritten note from one of the store's employees declared the man 'the master of the macabre', considered 'Flowers for your Grave' a 'hit' and gave it five stars.

Looking back at the party they'd attended, some pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. Rick wasn't in publishing the way he'd led her to believe. In fact, if she had to guess, she'd say Gina was less a colleague and more his publisher or editor.

The publisher or editor of a star author.

No wonder he'd looked at her funny when she'd mentioned her liking for Patterson. Her cheeks warmed at the memory.

"Officer?" A little hand tugged at her wrist, and she looked down. She'd almost forgotten about Alexis.

Alexis!

He had a _daughter_. Not only was he an acclaimed author, Rick had a _daughter_.

She exhaled, the shaky breath leaving her body as she struggled to process everything. "Let's go to the counter," she suggested. Still holding the novel, she forced her feet to move. Alexis nodded, falling into step with her, apparently calmer now she'd found an adult.

"I was the one who wandered off," Alexis confessed. "It wasn't my dad. He said he was going to look at the cookbooks and I was meant to stay in the kids' section."

Kate laughed, in spite of herself. "But was he in the cooking section when you looked for him?" she asked the girl.

"No." Alexis looked indignant, then delighted. "So daddy wandered off too!"

Kate smirked. "Guess so."

Elements of Rick's personality were starting to make sense. She could see him as a father; he'd be fun, probably not too strict, and he'd probably spoil Alexis something silly on the days he had her. She frowned, because that was quite the assumption, that Alexis' mom was the main caregiver, but really, what superstar author would want a kid dragging him down?

"Alexis!" the panicked shout came from a familiar voice, further confirming that Rick was, in fact, the man on the cover of the books she'd just seen, and the father of the girl next to her.

She turned to watch Alexis throw herself into the arms of the man in question, the little girl breaking into a fresh hiccup of tears as he picked her up, his grip on her white-knuckled.

"Where'd you go?" he demanded.

Alexis coughed, rubbing her eyes before answering, fun loving sass in her voice as she answered, " _you_ wandered off!"

"I did no such thing," Rick denied, smiling into the girl's hair as he set her down. "I seem to remember leaving you in the kid's section curled up with a good book or two."

Alexis shrugged. "It's okay, Daddy," she assured him. "Officer-" she looked at Kate. "Officer…"

"Beckett," Kate whispered, and Rick lifted his eyes to her.

Alexis continued as Rick's jaw dropped. "Officer Beckett helped me."

Rick blinked, and Kate felt like a deer in headlights under his scrutiny. " _Kate_? You're a _traffic_ cop? _That's_ your big secret?"

Beckett scowled even as she felt her face heat red. "I am _not_ a traffic cop. I am a recruit officer at the police academy who happens to have had a training day in the traffic division."

Crap.

Now he knew.

Alexis looked first at her dad before turning back to Kate, then whipped her head back to meet her father's eyes. "You know Officer Beckett?" she demanded.

"Uhhh…"

"Sort of?" By now, Kate was sure her face was flaming, but if she wasn't mistaken, Rick's ears were also showing a hint of red.

"We're friends, yeah, pumpkin," Rick managed at last, before dismissing the topic altogether with a strained, "did you want to buy any books?"

Alexis shook her head.

"What about you, Kate?" he asked, then shook his head as if he couldn't believe he'd even asked such a stupid question.

"No, I'm good," she answered, drawing his book up to her chest and covering it with her arms as best she could. His gaze fell on the cover and she opened her mouth, ready to defend herself, but as she lifted her eyes to his she realized that his face was now flaming.

"Oh," he said. "Oh. Right. Well. Um."

She blinked. _He_ was on the back foot? She cleared her throat. He was on the back foot. Good. She narrowed her eyes, and lifted the book, brandishing it at him. "Actually, I do have a book I need to buy. Right now."

"Um." Rick looked around helplessly. "Well, I think Alexis and I need to go. You know, have a little chat about wandering off, and I'll, well- I'll call you."

"Dad," Alexis reminded him. " _You_ wandered off. And this is very rude. Kate's your friend and she helped me." She paused, then brightened. "I know! You should buy her a coffee. Or- oh! Officer Beckett, can you come and have dinner with us? Dad is cooking spaghetti, and he's got plans after that, but it's okay, we can eat together before he goes."

Kate blinked at the sudden turn this had all taken.

"He has a date," Alexis stage whispered, and Rick buried his face in his hands.

"A date, huh?" Kate chuckled.

"He really likes her," Alexis continued.

"Good to know," Kate replied, looking at Rick, who was looking more and more uncomfortable. "I bet… I bet she really likes him too."

"Really?" Rick asked, his voice soft. "You think so?"

Kate nodded, dropping her gaze to her feet. Rick smiled, the first genuine look of pleasure on his face since the panic of spotting her with his daughter.

"Do you think you'd like to come over for dinner?" he asked, shy now. "I mean, I know my daughter invited you, but… really, we'd both love it if you did."

"I still have to buy my book," she said by way of answer, as he nudged her toward the door. "After all, I've heard this guy is the master of the macabre."

He snorted. "If I had a dollar for every time I heard that… let's just say I wouldn't have to write anymore bestsellers." He took the book from her hands and walked them toward the counter. He pulled out his credit card, and Kate tried to protest. "Please," he said. "It's the least I can do. After all, you like the… _genre_. I just hope you still like it after you read this one, because I've got a dozen others for you to read."

She laughed.

"Come on, Officer Beckett," Alexis said. "We live just around the corner."

"This is why I've never been back to your place, right?" Kate asked Rick under her breath as they exited the store, indicating in Alexis' direction.

He nodded, passing her the book before taking her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Hand," he reminded Alexis as they reached the intersection, and Alexis obediently slipped her hand into his other one, ready to cross the street. The lights turned green and the traffic cops on shift waved them across. Kate forced her eyes forward, suddenly all too aware she was still in her uniform. Crap. She could not go to Rick's house for dinner like this. She needed a shower. Make up. Clean clothes. To smell like something other than smog and exhaust. She needed to get out of this. Go home, hide from Rick. Maybe she could move house. Maybe even cities. Anything to avoid the moment he realized she wasn't his type, wasn't the kind of girl a bestselling author dated.

"So..." Rick spoke, bringing Kate back to earth. "You're a _cop_? That is so cool!"

"It's really awesome," Alexis added, skipping alongside them. "Dad loves cops. And CIA agents. And FBI."

"He does?" Kate asked Alexis. She turned to Rick. "You do?"

"Helps me with my stories," Rick explained, beaming. "One time I got to shadow a CIA agent-"

"Sophia," Alexis explained. "I didn't like her. But you know, dad could follow you at work-"

"Hold up," Kate said. "No. I'm not even a cop yet. I'm a recruit officer. That's it."

"But you will be a cop," Rick said, "and I would _love_ to follow you around."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Hold your horses," she instructed him. "Nobody's following me anywhere."

Rick shrugged, bumping his hip into hers as he grinned. "Then follow us. For the best spaghetti you've had in your life."


End file.
